


Shiraz Seduction

by GuileandGall



Series: Diary of a Nobody [3]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, Movie Night, Pre-Collapse, Red Wine & Pizza, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24946462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: Leah Rook shares a tempting evening with someone special and realizes maybe sometimes mothers do know best, even if their daughters will never admit it.
Relationships: Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed
Series: Diary of a Nobody [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757959
Kudos: 12





	Shiraz Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series of fics that introduce Leah Rook and establish her history and place in Hope County prior to the Collapse. As well as an unexpected romantic entanglement that she finds herself caught up in. Thank you to @amistrio and @chyrstis for betaing this piece for me. I really appreciate it more than I can say. Your comments really helped me hone this piece.

**Summary:** Leah Rook shares a tempting evening with someone special and realizes maybe sometimes mothers do know best, even if their daughters will never admit it.

 **a/n:** This is part of a series of fics that introduce Leah Rook and establish her history and place in Hope County prior to the Collapse. As well as an unexpected romantic entanglement that she finds herself caught up in. Thank you to @amistrio and @chyrstis for betaing this piece for me. I really appreciate it more than I can say. Your comments really helped me hone this piece.

**Shiraz Seduction**

**-1-**

The smell of pizza flooded the cab of Leah Rook’s truck. The stark backwoods darkness of the country pressing in from all sides intensified the fragrance. She never could pinpoint exactly what made pizza smell so damn mouthwatering. It had to be the combination of all the scents—pepperoni, Italian sausage, onions, peppers, mushrooms, and the sauce and spices. Honestly, the culprit did not matter. After a long day of physical training, the end was finally in sight; the three-hour drive home from Helena was almost over. Leah was exhausted and starving, her stomach screaming in protest thanks to that humid, enticing aroma

When she reached her driveway, it was all she could do not to rip open the box and just devour a slice. Thankfully, a surprising sight distracted her from her growling stomach. John Seed. He sat perched on her porch at the top of her front steps with a bottle of wine and a bunch of wildflowers sitting beside him. In her headlights, he looked up, raised his arm to shield his eyes, and smiled. It warmed her to her marrow, and totally pulled her thoughts away from the piping hot pizza beside her.

Dropping her standard out of gear and setting the break, she hopped out of her truck. Leah rushed across the yard in his direction surprised that he met her halfway. He scooped her up into a tight and welcoming hug. Leah sighed, relieved. She’d missed him. He buried his face in her hair and she held onto him like he might suddenly evaporate into the misty evening air if she let go too soon.

“Hope you weren’t waiting long,” she mumbled into the hollow curve of his neck.

He hummed. “No, I was still at least eight and a half minutes from sending out a search party.”

“Eight and a half, huh? That’s oddly specific.” Leah pulled away enough to see his face.

“A lack of precision can be dangerous.” The wind grin he wore sparked her own.

“Yeah,” she said, drawing the word out. She tightened the embrace once more, just to steal a bit more closeness.

“I don’t see pizza,” he said.

“In the front seat,” she replied, dangling from his neck. He felt too good in her arms to let go yet.

He chuckled against her skin and squeezed her a little tighter. “You get the door. I’ll get the pie.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and bent to let her feet touch the ground again. He released her far too soon for her liking and slipped passed her.

“’Kay.” Reluctance tainted her reply. With barely a backwards glance, she moved toward the house. She bent to grab the bottle of wine and flowers from the steps, cradling them in the crook of one arm as she held her keys in the remaining light to find the right one. “Red wine, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I thought that was just something people did in movies and TV shows to be pretentious,” she said over her shoulder.

John’s laughter rumbled warm and full, like a roll of thunder, as he came up behind her. His boots scuffed the wood of the porch; his hand landed on the small of her back. “There’s more to it than that.”

“Really?” she worked the key in the lock and finally got it to open. Her hand turned the knob and pushed the door open, holding it for him. She flicked the light switch and bathed the easeful living room in a soft glow. “Welcome,” she told him with a polite shallow curtsy.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, letting his bright blue eyes take in the interior.

“What do you think?”

“Cozy,” he told her with a smile, letting her close the door.

“I think so. Have a seat. I’ll open this and be right back.” She crossed the room in long strides, and disappeared into the kitchen, which lit up behind her. “Make yourself at home,” she called a little more loudly as she opened a drawer, then shut it almost immediately.

“Where are you?” she whispered, pulling open another drawer as she set the bottle on the counter. The third time proved to be the charm. “Ah, ha.”

“Here,” he offered.

The sound of his voice startled her, and she dropped the red enameled corkscrew on the floor. A nervous laugh escaped her lips and she bent to retrieve it. John had moved at the same time and got to it first. She laughed again, straightening. He held the corkscrew out to her.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I told you to make yourself at home.” She grabbed the device and poised it on the top of the bottle.

“I am.” He moved closer to her, resting one hand on the counter. The other found its way onto the curve of her back.

Leah’s tongue pressed over her lips as she tensed slightly. Her hands were on the verge of shaking and she wanted nothing more than to lean back against him. Somehow, she managed to hold back on that urge.

He’d told her that he was trying to _live right_ , struggling with some demons. She’d dated enough Bible-thumping Christian boys to be able to read between the lines. So, she tried to reign in the most heathen and reprobate notions that tended to pop into her mind when John Seed was around.

“Where are your wine glasses?” he whispered, the words brushing against her ear sending shivers down her spine. Decidedly sinful shivers.

Damn him, sometimes he made it more difficult than necessary. Her mind stalled a moment before she managed to recover some of her God-given sense. “Above the sink,” she said, her face turning toward him.

John placed a soft kiss onto her cheek. In the next breath, he was gone. Suddenly, it was like air had flooded back into the room; and Leah inhaled deeply as quietly as she could in search of calm and reason.

The sink screeched for a second as the water started. When Leah worked the cork the rest of the way out of the bottle, it popped loudly. John rinsed both glasses, then dried them out with a towel lying beside the sink. Leah grabbed two plates out of the cabinet and tore a few paper towels off the roll to use in place of napkins.

John followed her out of the kitchen, flicking the light switch when they walked through the archway. Leah knelt on the floor next to the coffee table and set everything out. He placed the glasses, then turned toward the set of shelves that held her TV and DVD player. With a click, he pulled the disk out of the container and slipped it into the machine. She relocated some of the pillows from the sofa and propped them up against it as she curled her legs under her trying to find a comfy spot.

“So, explain it to me,” she said, pouring the wine into the glasses.

“What?” He studied her remote and got the TV on and the movie started. Then glanced her way. “Ah. Well,” he sat beside her on the floor, folding up his long legs.

Leah couldn’t help but smile at him, when she handed him a glass.

“It’s about balancing and brightening the competing flavors.” He sipped a mouthful of the full-bodied red wine, then set it on the table. He stretched forward and grabbed a slice. “Here,” he said, holding it for her. “Take a bite.”

He watched her so closely when she did that, she could feel the burn of embarrassment brightening her cheeks. She covered her mouth as she chewed, holding her hand high enough that it might just mask some of the blush.

“Good?” he asked. She nodded and grinned. He reached past her and grabbed her glass. “Now, take a sip and let it coat your tongue. Then try another bite.”

She lifted the glass to her lips, a bit timorous, a little nervous despite everything. Doing as he suggested, she let the hefty wine wash over her tongue and paint her mouth. John held the slice, curved just right to keep it from flopping over and spilling all the toppings into either of their laps or onto the floor. Her eyes couldn’t leave his when she leaned forward to steal another taste.

Her eyes widened, her hand covering her mouth again. “Oh my God,” she crowed around her bite. “How on Earth?”

John chuckled and laid the piece on the plate in front of her. “It’s chemistry,” he told her. “The fatty meats can make your mouth feel slick and the tannins in the wine will dry out your mouth, so they cancel one another out. It allows the flavors to bloom more completely. The acidity of the vegetables brighten up alongside that dryness. It just really brings out and turns up all those flavors.”

“Guess it’s not all pretentiousness.”

“Not all of it,” he chided. His fingers touched her hair and moved it over her shoulder. In the next moment, like he had to force his attention away from her, he looked over toward the television then reached for the remote again to hit the play button and turn the volume back up.

“I’ll get the lights,” Leah said. She took another drink then stood to flip the switch and cast them into relative, but considerable darkness.

This was far easier than seeing his face, falling into that captivating gaze of his. It wouldn’t be quite as much of a struggle to keep her distance this way, though more than once her hand found his or brushed against his thigh. And his fingers grazing her shoulder sent shivers rushing beneath her skin. Almost every time she leaned against the sofa; she found his arm draped there. Without fail, it almost always pulled her against him.

**-2-**

Sipping at the rich wine, Leah leaned against John’s shoulder, when an epiphany came over her early on in the film. “Is this some kind of weird sign?” she asked.

“Pardon?” John replied. The fingertips that had been tracing random patterns on her shoulder stilled.

“I mean, think about it a second.” She stretched and set her wine on the table then shifted toward him, looking up at his face. The golden tones from the scene on the screen mixed with the shadows of the night and the flickering brightness gave his features an ominous and mysterious air. “You show up, all chivalrous with dinner—”

“You brought dinner,” he corrected after a sip, his own glass landing back on the table noiselessly.

“Okay, yes. But you brought the wine and the film. And you picked _Legends of the Fall_?” Her brow crunched over her eyes in question.

“It’s a powerful drama. Won an Oscar, too, if I recall correctly.”

“Oh, it is outstanding. But think about it a sec,” she said, laying a hand on his chest to try and halt the film review. “Set in Montana.” She ticked off her weird observation on her fingers, tapping each against his chest in turn. “Story of three brothers. The youngest,” she raises her eyebrows at him, “falls for a girl.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Then she ends up having this passionate affair with the middle brother, falling madly for him. Then marries the oldest.

“John, is this some kind of twisted crystal ball nonsense, or what?” Her grin widened as she reached the edge of laughter.

The look on his face—moving from curious to puzzled to horrified—just made it all the more hilarious to Leah. “That … _is_ not—”

When her laughter reached the point of uncontainable, John pounced. Both his hands went straight for her ribs. His tickling added a wildness to her laughter that brought a smile to his face.

“Really?” he said, mercilessly continuing his deft assault as she tumbled over trying to escape.

She wriggled against and swatted at his machinations until she reached the point that it felt like she would never be able to catch her breath.

“I give!” she yelled.

John’s hands stilled and he leaned next to her where she lay, still giggling, curled up on the floor.

“I give,” she repeated, her voice regaining a trace of calm.

He leaned on one elbow and brushed her brown hair off her face. “So, this got you thinking of running the gambit?”

Her body still quivered with residual glee as she shook her head. “Nah,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “I think one brother’s enough for me. This _one,_ ” she stated, poking him gently in the shoulder.

“Good.” His thumb brushed her cheek as the two of them looked into one another’s eyes. “I agree completely.”

“Good,” she parroted with a soft smile.

Leah wanted so badly for him to kiss her, but she felt frozen there in his undivided attention. It felt inevitable. And she could be patient, maybe. Her fingertips pressed tiny circles against his collarbone. His thumb grazed along her cheekbone forward, then back. The moment he finally moved; they both inhaled deeply in anticipation for the impact of his lips landing against hers.

He shifted against her as his hand slipped into her hair and cradled her head. The feel of his lean body against hers made her head spin, and she clutched him closer, savoring the pressure of him against her. It made her skin tingle. Her arms slipped around him, his shoulders, and his waist. One hand fisted in the back of his shirt, in search of an anchor to keep her from spinning out of control.

Tentative licks coaxed lips apart. Breaths were stolen from one another’s mouths. All the while, the two of them entangled themselves in one another. Her leg shifted against his thigh. John took advantage of the movement to gain a leverage point for his knee between hers. There on her living room floor, they clung to one another, indulging completely and ravenously.

The need to touch him overwhelmed her. Leah let one hand tease into his hair; it was softer than she expected given how perfectly styled he wore it. The fingers of her other hand sneaked under the open collar of his shirt in search of bare skin. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one feeling touch starved. She noticed the gentle clawing of his fingertips above her waist. The heat of his palm on her ribcage brought a gasp to her lips, which broke their amorous kiss.

Labored breathing echoed in her ears as she looked up at him. John wore a shocked expression, though whether it was at her or himself, Leah couldn’t be sure. Either way, his hand slipped out of her shirt and he pushed himself off her. In the moment, she’d never even thought about slowing things down. Despite what he’d told her, Leah had let her libido run away with her.

“I’m sorry, John,” she said quietly as the distance between them widened.

He shook his head; his countenance turned solemn as he sat up and leaned against the sofa. Bending one knee, he rested his elbow on it and leaned his forehead against it. “You have nothing to apologize for.” His tone was distant, quiet.

She pulled her legs under her as she sat up as well, but left a little more room between them than had been there previously. “Not entirely true. You told me, and I should have remembered.”

His head turned toward her. “You shouldn’t have to govern _my_ actions.”

“No, but I could have been more supportive of your wishes, instead of losing myself in you,” she admitted, glancing toward the movie as she reached for her glass. She could feel his eyes on her before she looked at him again to check and see if he was watching her. When he still hadn’t said anything after what seemed like several protracted minutes, she started to worry her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, brushing his thumb against her bottom lip to free it. “And I am weak.”

“You’re human,” she argued, pressing a tiny kiss to the pad of his finger. “We’re all weak. That’s the way we were made.”

“Indeed.” He nodded slowly, a smile gracing his face.

Maybe she shouldn’t be teasing his thumb with little kisses, maybe she shouldn’t have nipped at it, because John directed his hand along the ridge of her jaw and down her neck. Finally, he settled his palm on her shoulder with a sigh. That hand flexed around the muscular curve. _Christ_ , she thought, unable to break his gaze—she wanted to feel his lips on hers again. The temptation hung in the air like humidity after a storm.

“We’re missing the movie,” she finally said, trying to find a strand or two of control, supportiveness. No, she couldn’t govern his actions, but she could tone down her own.

John’s grin widened. “Yes, we are.”

“Can I come closer?”

“Please,” he purred, laying his arm over the seat of the sofa. The tone of his voice swirled along her spine and clawed at her resolve. Leah scooted nearer and fit her shoulder against his ribs. His hand closed over her shoulder and pulled her even more snuggly into his side. Her heart still pounded in her ears as they settled beside one another again.

As if mocking temptation, John pressed a soft kiss against her temple. Leah’s eyes drifted closed, her lips tingling with the memory of his mouth on hers. A muted hum curled in her throat; once conscious of it, she silenced herself by holding her breath. _Movie_ , she reminded herself, _must_ _watch the movie._

**-3-**

Despite having seen _Legends of the Fall_ previously, there were things she had forgotten, or perhaps she merely chose not to remember them. When a woman on the screen cried out, Leah leaned more heavily into John’s side. Her hand covered her gasp and her heart broke when she saw the gunshot wound. His lips brushed her temple, while she stared at the screen practically paralyzed and unable to look away.

By the end of the film, John’s arm squeezed around her tighter with every little jolt that shook through her with each damnable gunshot. Her whole body tensed during the confrontation. A tear streaking down her cheek when the middle son argued for the courtesy of not being shot in front of his son. A tingle of relief slithered under her skin when the final crooked cop was felled by the uppity older brother.

Her hand had tightened in John’s shirt, though she realized it only when his hand covered hers as the dramatic music and narration took over. With his touch, her grip loosened enough for his hand to wrap around hers as Tristan finally met his good death. The screen faded to black and she blinked up at him.

“Damn, John,” she breathed. A strange new level of exhaustion curled through her body as the credits rolled.

He just smiled at her. Taking her hand with his, he brushed a tear off her cheek. “Did you enjoy it at least?”

She nodded. “I just forgot about the heart-breaking parts.”

“I might have as well,” he admitted, resting his forehead against hers. “Because I thoroughly dislike seeing you cry.”

That earned him a smile and a tilt of her head. She brushed her nose against his cheek just before fitting her lips to his. Her hand slipped out of his, landing on his chest, while his dove into her hair, as their mouths opened against one another’s. His tongue flicked past her lips, teasing into her mouth.

They’d been close all night, but now sought to chase off every millimeter of space that tried to sneak its way between them. The two of them lost themselves in that kiss. Leah’s heart pounded against her ribs so hard she was sure John had to feel it. Butterflies, birds, and bats all took wing in her gut, twisting it and making it flutter wildly.

She wanted him. Not just like this, but … like he’d offered himself to her all night. John perched on her porch wearing a grin and waiting for her. Him pouring her a glass of wine and stealing pepperoni off of her slice. Him holding her in his arms as she leaned against him, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. She was a sap and she knew it. But she wanted more of this.

Leah kissed him harder—one hand slipping to the back his neck for a better grip. As if her body could tell him all those things more clearly than the words she surely wouldn’t be able to find.

John eased away. A hint of tension gathered in the muscles of his neck beneath Leah’s hand. “I should …” he breathed, his eyes opening and finding hers, “um … probably be heading out.” His voice carried a heavy reluctance, like it was the last thing he wanted.

Leah felt the same. Her eyes searched his as the invitation tiptoed to the edge of her tongue. “You could stay.” She couldn’t keep herself from suggesting it, even though she knew damn well she should have held back. Despite that she pinned her desire for him to her sleeve unabashedly.

He sighed heavily, closed his eyes, and he pressed his forehead against hers. Even before he said it, she knew he would decline.

“I …” He took another deep breath—steeling his nerves, perhaps—then his bright blue eyes opened again. “I want to,” he admitted with a trace of guilt in his tone. His index finger traced the shape of her ear. “But I shouldn’t.”

Without putting up an argument, Leah offered a gentle nod and simply said, “I understand.”

The hint of his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Thank you.” His thumb brushed over her cheekbone, leading his deft hand into her hair; his tone and the look in his eyes held more gratitude than she could really understand in the moment. “It was a lovely evening.”

“I should be thanking you,” she countered. Her fingertips traced the warm skin at the edge of his collar. “I mean you brought the wine and the movie. I just gathered up enough pillows to make the floor survivable.”

His lips met hers again. God help her, she didn’t want it to end. His lips parted against hers, his tongue licking into her mouth like he couldn’t leave without a parting taste of her. She gave it freely, savoring every single touch. Her skin buzzed under his caress and she didn’t want it to ever stop, but it did, easing in increments as he slipped away. Tongue. Lips. Forehead. Soon, his firm grip on her hand remained the only point of connection between them.

They’d made their way from the floor of her living room to the porch and finally to her front steps. Standing on the last step, made her almost as tall as John. Neither of them had to crane their necks to trade lingering goodbye pecks.

“I really enjoyed tonight, John,” she told him.

“Me, too.” His hands moved down her back gently. It allowed an intrusive and unwelcome distance to slip between them. As if the breeze flitting down the mountain slopes carried some otherworldly power, the two of them parted. Fingertips curling around one another in a desperate attempt to keep the other close. Leah stood on her bottom step, her arms crossing around her, as John slid into the driver’s seat of his coupe.

She couldn’t help but think how impractical a choice the sporty red vehicle was for the mountains and dirt roads of Hope County. When the engine turned over, John caught her eye and offered a little wave. Leah kissed her fingertips and returned the gesture. She had planned to wait for him to pull out of her short drive, instead, he shooed her back toward the house. Guess he wanted to make sure she was safe as well.

With a laugh on her lips, she trudged back up the stairs and slipped into her living room, closing and locking the door behind her. She peeked through the curtain to make sure he got onto the road without incident. Or maybe she peeked out just to get another glimpse. Once his taillights faded, she leaned against the door with a sigh. A tender smile played over her still tingling lips, and her tongue bathed them as she rested her head against the wood. She knew she was in trouble. She blamed it on the blue eyes.


End file.
